defense of her---even if he was defending her from herself.
"B'Elanna is wonderful just the way she is. Practically perfect in
every way," Tom hastened to say. "And you can tell her I said so. I
just mean you shouldn't say demeaning things about yourself---and
don't excuse it by saying you were only joking!"
"You're right," Malista admitted. "It bothers Harry when I say
negative things about me too. I guess it's a habit. I'll try to watch
it. Tom?"
"What?"
"Do you think Harry will be worried? Really?" It was a small plea for
reassurance.
The lieutenant nodded decidedly. "Of course. I only hope you'll love
him when he's bald. He's probably tearing his hair out as we speak. He
wants you back in one piece. You concentrate on that idea. It's your
*duty* to get back to Harry. He loves you and wants you and needs
you---and these aliens have no right to make you or Harry unhappy. Get
mad about that, will you?! I happen to know Harry had a special date
planned for this evening. Don't tell him I told you! He's going to be
really ticked at these aliens for spoiling his plans!"
A tentative smile tugged at her lips, then disappeared. "What are we
going to do now?"
"Well, according to my training at the Academy, we assess our
situation, gather intelligence, search for a means of escape, and wait
for the opportunity to act." He took her hand in his and squeezed it.
"And if there is no opportunity?" she asked.
"Then we make one," he replied matter-of-factly. He was sure that he
would find a chance. He was counting on it. He refused to even
consider the possibility of a negative outcome.
She was convinced. They settled down to wait, holding hands, each lost
in thought.
A bright light suddenly popped into existence in front of them. When
the brightness faded, the hexagon shaped bed disappeared. Unprepared
to have their seating yanked from under them, the two of them landed
on the floor with thumps and groans of surprise. They looked around.
The bed hadn't disappeared. They had. They were in another room.
*************************
"Anything?" Captain Janeway asked.
Tuvok glanced up. "We have not been able to trace the signal back to
its source."
"We just barely got the sensors to recognize its existence," Harry Kim
added, a hint of his impatience and anxiety making itself heard.
"Enough to trigger the intruder alert, but we didn't have time to lock
on and get a directional fix."
Janeway and Chakotay exchanged glances. It had been four hours since
the crewmembers known as The Six had simultaneously vanished from
their various locations around the ship. Their commbadges and the
equipment they had been wearing or holding had been left behind so,
wherever they were, The Six were unarmed and unequipped for an away
mission. The only equipment that was known to have transported with
them were the protective spectacles that they'd all picked up from
Sickbay that morning.
Harry Kim had been running diagnostics, tests, and simulations almost
continually, aided and abetted in his endeavors by the Chief Engineer
who was now fidgeting at his elbow.
"Harry, it's time for you to take a break," the first officer said.
"You and B'Elanna go get something to eat and try to take your mind
off the problem. That may help you to think of something we're
missing."
Kim began to protest but subsided at the 'do I have to make it an
order?' look from the captain.
Torres acquiesced with a nod and looped her arm through his, towing
him toward the turbolift with more force than was strictly necessary
to overcome his reluctance. "Come on, Starfleet. You can work on that
search you've been doing for the perfect love poem to recite to
Malista."
Harry flinched away from her in surprise. He didn't think she, or
anyone else, knew about that. Since he'd found out how fond Malista
was of poetry, he'd been trying to find a poem somewhere in the
database that would express how he felt about her in a way she would
find memorable and flattering.
Just as they reached the turbolift, the lift doors opened, Jenny
Delaney strode onto the bridge. "Captain, I need to talk to you. I
think Megan is hurt."
Kim and Torres spun on their heels and, without waiting for
permission, followed the redhead back towards the captain's seat.
*************************
Paris blinked at the sudden change in environment, startled to find
himself dropping three feet from a sitting position to the floor
without warning. The jarring impact rattled every sore muscle and bone
in his body, causing him to clench his jaw to keep from shouting at
the sudden pain. His second reaction was to feel pleased that, this
time at least, the aliens hadn't separated him from Shadow when they
were transported. He was still holding her hand when they stopped
moving.
The sounds of muffled curses, thumps, and heartfelt moans behind them
signaled the arrival of the other four Voyager crewmen in a similar
fashion. With a groan, Paris clambered to his feet then pulled Malista
upright.
"Are you all right?" they asked each other in unison. "I'm fine," they
chorused. Reluctant smiles appeared.
"We're beginning to sound like the Delaney twins," Shadow commented.
"It's a sibling thing," Paris explained as he turned to assess the
condition of his involuntary away team, relieved that he finally had
an achievable goal to work toward.
Without waiting for instructions, Malista immediately put her first
aid training and natural protective instincts to use. She went towards
the other women first, leaving the men to Paris. A quick assessing
look showed that Lamont was shivering with cold and that seemed to be
the extent of her problem. Malista quickly stripped off her jacket and
draped it around the smaller woman's shoulders. The blond clutched it
thankfully and worked at warming herself, blowing on her hands to try
to return the circulation to her nearly frozen fingers.
Shadow turned toward Delaney next, concerned with the apparent damage
and bruising of her right elbow. Megan shook her head. "It's sore, but
I'll live. Take care of the others first."
Haldersen was on his feet---his bare blue feet. Though self-conscious
about his unclothed state, he was seemingly uninjured and offered a
supportive arm to the redhead, frowning uneasily as he took in the
discoloration and swelling of her arm and its contrast with the pallor
of her face. She leaned on him heavily as they followed Shadow to
cluster around the only one of The Six who was not up and moving at
the moment.
Malista dropped to her knees next to Ensign Simms, whose more severe
injury had apparently incapacitated him. Paris was kneeling on the
other side of the young man. Janine Lamont seated herself behind
Simms, waiting for a signal from Paris that would tell her how she
could help.
Ethan was lyin
g curled on his side on the floor, obviously in agony.
His left knee was cradled protectively in his hands. The drop when
he'd been relocated to this room had aggravated the damage to his leg,
sending shock waves of pain coursing through him. He'd managed not to
scream aloud, but a steady litany of indistinguishable words and
hisses of pain were escaping his compressed lips.
Paris was patiently waiting for Simms to recover a measure of his
composure. At a nod from the pilot, Shadow placed one gentle hand on
the ensign's shoulder and waited for him to acknowledge her. She
didn't want to startle him. Startling Security Officers often had
unfortunate side effects for both parties. "Ethan?" she said quietly.
His kelly green eyes were glazed as he gazed up at her, recognition
dawning after a moment. "Malista?" He held his breath momentarily,
exhaling shakily as he tried to relax taut muscles and screaming nerve
ends. He accepted the gentle guidance of her hands and allowed her to
turn him onto his back.
"Yes. Tom and I want to check your knee. Do you know what happened?"
She kept talking, trying to distract him. She handed Tom the knife
from her boot. He slit the leg of the ensign's sweatpants from his
ankle to halfway up his thigh, then handed the knife back to Malista
who sheathed it.
The young man's eyelids drooped wearily. "I'd hoped I was the only
one. Is Janine---"
Before he could finish the thought, Lamont scooted up behind him
within range of his vision. Carefully lifting his head, she pillowed
it on her lap. "Right here, darling. Just lie still and let us see
what we can do about your leg." She placed one chilly hand on his
overly warm forehead and the other on his cheek.
He sighed, nestling into her palms as if the coolness brought some
relief. He placed his left hand over hers to keep it in place. Janine
exchanged a worried look with Malista. He was feverish. A high fever?
Due to his injury? Or was there something else wrong with him?
Tom examined the swollen, purple joint, trying not to induce more
injury or pain with his inspection. He scowled. "I think your knee is
dislocated. Do you know how it happened, Ethe?"
"No," the young man hissed through clenched teeth, struggling to
reassert some control over his voice and expression. He could feel his
face flush even hotter with embarrassment at being the center of
attention. "It was like this when I woke up in that room."
A frown traced its way briefly across the lieutenant's forehead. "I
think the swelling and pain are only going to get worse---unless I put
the joint back in place." He met the younger man's eyes squarely.
"I'll be honest with you, Ethan. I've got a field medic's training.
I've studied what to do, but I've never actually done this before."
Green eyes met blue. Ethan knew beyond a doubt that Paris would do his
best. And he really didn't have a lot of options. "Do it, Lieutenant."
Tom drew in a shaky breath, moved by the trust the Security Officer
placed in him. "Okay. We don't have any anesthetics. No medkit. I'll
try to get it done as quickly and painlessly as possible, but to tell
you the truth---this is going to hurt like hell, Ethe. But when it's
done, it should help relieve the swelling and lessen the pain until we
can get you back to Sickbay and the Doc's tender mercies and sparkling
personality."
The auburn haired man nodded, his lips narrowing to a grim line as he
bit down on his back teeth and braced himself.
Paris encompassed their companions in his gaze. "Janine, you hold his
head. Sven, can you kneel next to her? Put an arm across his shoulders
and hold down his other leg. If he moves around, it may make it harder
to do it right the first time. Malista, give Ethan your knife. He can
bite down on the handle. You hold his hands."
Shadow placed the hilt of the knife in Simms' mouth, smiling
reassuringly at him as she took his hands in her own. "No, I'll hurt
you," the ensign protested, noticing how slender and small her long
fingers were compared to his own blunt digits.
She considered his words for an instant. "All right. Hold my wrists
and I'll hold yours. Don't worry, Ethan. I'm stronger than I look.
Just pretend we're hanging from a trapeze. If you let go, I'll fall."
She grasped his wrists and nodded encouragingly as he reluctantly
wrapped his hands around her forearms.
With Janine behind him, Ethan chose to focus on Malista's kind face to
keep his mind off Paris and what he was going to do. He could almost
feel a wave of warmth and compassion coming toward him from the light
in her eyes.
"Ready?" Tom managed to keep the nervousness from showing in his
voice. He was silently praying for the courage to do this and the
wisdom and skill to do it right. There was no way of knowing how long
it would be before Ethan could be treated in Voyager's Sickbay. They
couldn't afford to mess this up. It would cost Simms too much in terms
of suffering.
Receiving nods from all his assistants, Paris placed his hands firmly
on the ensign's leg. "On the count of three. One. Two. Three." With a
yank and a twist, the joint popped back into place with an audible
crackle that made those who heard it wince in commiseration.
Ethan's body spasmed and he screamed at the brief jolt of agony, the
sound muffled by the knife hilt clenched between his teeth.
Mercifully, he passed out.
Janine whimpered sympathetically and stroked his face caressingly.
Megan patted her shoulder. "He'll be all right. He's a strong man. You
made a good choice," Delaney said, a hint of envy peeking through her
words.
Tom, who was almost as pale as Simms at this point, took the
opportunity to check the knee again. He nodded, sighing his relief as
his twanging nerves eased their hold on his own breathing. "It worked.
It's back in place." He smiled over the young man's head at Janine
Lamont. Tears were streaming from her grateful eyes as she smiled
weakly in return. She leaned over and kissed Ethan's forehead.
Shadow smiled at Paris and lightly pushed his shoulder in sisterly
affection. "Too bad Tuvok isn't here. He could have given Ethan a
Vulcan neck pinch to put him out." She glanced up. "Megan, let Tom
check your elbow. You may have the same type of problem as Ethan."
Delaney obediently moved toward Paris who got to his feet. He took her
wrist gently and pushed the ripped sleeve of her shirt away from the
swollen elbow. "How the hell did this happen?"
Sven Haldersen cleared his throat. "I believe our captors might have
been testing the range of the joints. Possibly studying how they
work."
"What?" Janine asked, numbly. "Why would they do that?"
"You always study the anatomy of the----animals you capture for
study," Haldersen, the biologist, said reluctantly. "It's standard
procedure."
************************
The meeting had been relocated to the briefing room. "All right,
Lieutenant Delaney. Let's hear it. What
do you mean Megan is hurt? How
do you know?" Captain Janeway inquired.
"It's not something we talk about much. People tend to think
it's---spooky," the redhead replied. "And there are enough speculative
rumors about us and our love lives. We don't need to make it worse.
Megan and I are identical twins. We're connected."
"Are you referring to telepathy in some form?" Tuvok asked.
Jenny considered that. "No, nothing that clear cut. It's more like
empathy. It only really kicks in when one of us is injured or in
danger. When we were stationed on different ships during our Academy
apprenticeships, I was hurt in a training accident. Megan knew it
right away. I was incapacitated for two weeks. So was Megan. We
figured out that at the moment I was hurt, Megan collapsed. The
doctors attributed it to psychic trauma. Somehow we shared the injury.
It's one reason there was no protest about keeping us assigned to the
same ship. It was added on a confidential basis to our personal
medical histories."
Kathryn Janeway was fascinated by the idea, her scientific curiosity
aroused, but didn't allow herself to be sidetracked. Not now. "Jenny,
how much can you tell us about Megan's situation right now? Can you
tell us anything about the others?"
Jenny shook her head, frustration etched across her delicate features
as she tossed her red hair over her shoulder. "For the first couple of
hours, I wasn't getting anything. I would guess that she wasn't awake.
A little while ago, I started getting---twinges." She cradled her
Trials 04 Shadow's Trial Page 38